


see you on the ocean floor

by oneworldaway



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, also there's sex, root flirting, set in some vague time in the future when all is well again and the, shaw trying, tag applies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneworldaway/pseuds/oneworldaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root was half-convinced the current would carry them both away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	see you on the ocean floor

Root heard Shaw turn off her shower and knew she’d be emerging from the bathroom soon, one of Root’s white, fluffy towels wrapped around her. Though this was becoming more and more of a regular occurrence, she knew that Shaw still viewed this apartment, and everything in it, as belonging to Root alone; Shaw was merely a guest. Root knew this distinction was crucial for Shaw, even if they’d never talked about it, and was careful not to say anything that implied she might want to change things. But as Root pictured Shaw just beyond the closed bathroom door, toweling off her wet hair that would smell of Root’s shampoo by now, the lines they’d once drawn between their lives only seemed to blur even more.

A moment later, Shaw stepped into the bedroom to find Root exactly where she’d left her on the bed. (You sure you don’t want me to join you?” Root had asked, pouting a little as she sat cross-legged on the bed. “I could wash your back.” Shaw’s answer had been to peel off her leather jacket and throw it at Root’s face on her way into the bathroom.) The only notable difference was that Root had divested herself of the black jeans and burgundy shirt she’d worn earlier that day, and was now stretched out on her side wearing only a lacy black bra and matching pair of panties. She rested her hand on the curve of her hip, hoping the position looked more casual than calculated, and turned up the intensity of the usual glint in her eyes until it was more like a flare she was sending up in the hopes that Shaw would see her.

Shaw’s phone chirped on the dresser, and she turned to answer it without pausing to acknowledge Root, only glancing at her after a brief exchange that consisted primarily of grunts on her end. “I gotta go watch our number,” she explained, unceremoniously dropping her towel on the bed next to Root, and moving to find one of her own pairs of underwear that had migrated to Root’s dresser drawer.

“That’s too bad,” said Root, her smirk and pride still fully intact. “I thought we’d have a quiet night in. Maybe order some Thai food.”

“I’m more in the mood for burgers,” said Shaw, dressing herself quickly and efficiently.

“Either way,” Root continued, undeterred, “when was the last time we had a nice date night? Just you and me, no numbers, no missions.” Root’s gaze slid up from her side, where she thumbed the lacy edge of her underwear, to search for Shaw’s, but Shaw broke their eye contact to pull her black T-shirt over her head.

“There’s always a mission,” she replied, pulling her wet hair out over her shirt, and Root knew Shaw had seen the light in her eyes flicker before she could even attempt to hide it.

“Need some backup?” she offered, instead, doing her best to recover. 

“I can handle this one,” said Shaw, stepping into her own black pants. “Didn’t you have some code to work on, anyway?”

“Yeah,” said Root, managing not to sound particularly deflated. Giving up on the pose she’d been holding, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, facing Shaw as she tied her hair into her customary ponytail. She watched as Shaw retrieved her jacket, pulled on her boots, and gathered up her guns, before she reached for the doorknob. “What, no kiss goodbye?” she asked cheekily, grinning at Shaw when she turned to look at her. 

Shaw only blinked back at Root, cocking an eyebrow just a little, daring her to cross the room. This didn’t surprise Root at all - because she was always the one to reach out, to ask Shaw to stay, to kiss her goodbye. (With one notable, memorable exception Shaw still couldn’t seem to talk about, and Root wasn’t about to force her.) When Root wanted something, she asked for it, and that was how their relationship progressed. That was the way it had always been, and in truth, Root was okay with that.

So when Root made no move to rise from the bed for reasons even she wasn’t sure of,Shaw simply turned around and left, and Root could hardly say she was surprised.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It was just after 4 in the morning when Root felt her phone vibrate on top of the bed next to her, alerting her to an incoming text.  
  


> **Shaw** (4:07): I’m outside your place. Don’t shoot when I come in.  
>    
> 

As grateful as Root was for the heads up - hearing her apartment door opening unexpectedly at 4am would certainly have put her on alert - Shaw coming back here at all confused her. Root had figured she’d go back to her own place after dealing with their number. She didn’t usually come back so soon after she’d left.

She listened to Shaw making her way into her apartment, closed her laptop on the code she’d been up working away at, and slid it onto the bedside table just as Shaw pushed her door open. Neither spoke a word as Shaw kicked off her boots, walked over in a couple of easy strides, and climbed on top of Root, wasting no time in covering her mouth with her own.

Root struggled to catch her breath as Shaw seemed determined to suck the life right out of her. She wasn’t even out of her own jacket yet, and already her hands were working their way underneath the grey T-shirt Root had changed into hours ago, scratching up and along her middle, delighting to find her no longer wearing the bra from earlier (though her bottom half was still clad in only that thin scrap of lace masquerading as underwear). Before long she was coaxing Root’s arms up over head and pulling the shirt off of her, and Root thrilled at the feel of Shaw’s leather jacket against her bare skin as Shaw nipped and sucked her way down her neck and across her collarbone.

Under Shaw’s hands, she turned to liquid, and Root was half-convinced the current would carry them both away. There was a storm raging inside of her, always at its loudest when Shaw was nearby, and tonight the rain was pouring down on her so hard, her emotions threatened to overflow. What’s more, she could hardly keep up with Shaw’s pace tonight; it was all she could do to get the jacket off of her before she was slinking her way down Root’s body, _finally_ pulling off the lacy underwear. Root could’ve sworn she heard the distant roll of thunder, or maybe it was just Shaw’s soft growl as she settled herself between Root’s legs, preparing to devour her.

Then Shaw’s mouth was on her, and Root could only breathe in short gasps, thinking vaguely that if this was what it felt like to drown, she’d gladly sink to the ocean floor.

Shaw’s tongue was relentless against her, and the way she clawed at Root’s thighs was sure to leave countless marks behind. But Root was already lost to all lines of rational thinking, only able to fist a hand in Shaw’s hair, and readily oblige when Shaw motioned for her to hook her leg up over her shoulder. Then Shaw was slipping two fingers inside of her, thrusting into her to a rhythm matching that of her tongue on Root’s clit, and it was all so much, too much for Root to think or breathe or even remember who she was without this, before this.

Her senses overloading, she noted Shaw pulling away from her slightly, but it seemed to happen in slow motion, Shaw moving back and watching Root as she slid a third finger into her. When she opened her eyes, Shaw’s gaze fixed onto hers, and Root couldn’t be sure if it was that or the way her fingers were hitting that one spot inside of her that was sending shivers up her spine. Her whole body was beginning to quake, and all the while, Shaw’s wide eyes were trained on hers.

“I want to get this right,” said Shaw, her voice sounding faraway to Root, like a long distance call on a delay. (Like the faint whispers that were all she heard from the Machine for so long, when she was so desperate, so scared, with no clue where in the world Shaw was. When waiting for a message to come through her cochlear implant had felt more like holding a seashell to her ear and listening for the ocean.) “I’m trying.”

Root wondered if she was going to say anything more, but Shaw only let the silence stretch out between them until Root felt compelled to break it.

“Sameen,” she whispered, like a prayer, a plea for mercy, for salvation.

Shaw answered by dipping her head back down between Root’s legs and sucking hard on her clit, and then Root was coming, cries of Shaw’s name dying on her lips as electric waves washed over her, tossing her about like a ship on a stormy sea.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It wasn’t until later - once Root had returned the favour once or twice, just to be sure - that she spoke again, though Shaw’s words echoed in her mind all the while. “You don’t have to,” said Root quietly, as Shaw collapsed on the left side of the bed, raising an eyebrow in question. “Try,” Root clarified. “I don’t need you to be someone you’re not for my sake. I want _you_ .”

Shaw pushed her hair back off her own sweat-slicked face and huffed out a breath, not in annoyance, but something like frustration. “It’s not that I don’t...” She trailed off, struggling to put her thoughts into words even though she’d clearly been thinking about this since before she came back to the apartment - maybe even since she left in the first place. “It’s different, for me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here.” 

It was so rare for Shaw to talk about her feelings like this that whenever it happened, it almost knocked Root off her feet; in this case, she was happy to already be horizontal. She was almost scared to reply, afraid the wrong response might spook Shaw and send her running back out of Root’s place. But Shaw was holding her gaze, again, waiting on her to say something. “I know,” she answered, meekly, reminding herself of a shy schoolgirl. Shaw looked unsure, and Root shook her head at herself, gaining confidence. “I know,” she repeated, more firmly this time, and that seemed to settle Shaw.

The tips of their noses brushed against each other as Shaw leaned in, and it felt almost sickeningly sweet, like something out of a movie neither of them would have the patience to sit through. Then Shaw was kissing her, and Root felt calmer than she had in ages. The storm was finally passing.

She tasted herself on Shaw’s tongue and moaned sleepily into her mouth, utterly content. Another few minutes, and Shaw would be asleep in her bed, her soft, steady breaths the most lovely sound Root could ever hope to hear. And when the sun crept its way into the room another couple of hours later, Shaw would be there to face the day with her.

Root wanted for nothing more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I got from the TFLN Challenge was "(318): But I'm halfway naked in a seductive pose! I just want to get this right... " Obviously I took the second part of this prompt in a bit of a different direction. I can't find it right now, but there's a gifset of times Shaw's "tried" with Root - gone out of what might be her typical comfort zone in her interactions with others, not because Root pressured her to, but of her own volition. I've thought about that gifset a lot since I saw it. The fact that Shaw has actively reached out to Root, in her own way, so many times really says a lot.
> 
> But also, while it's wonderful how Root doesn't push her or pressure her and largely lets Shaw set the boundaries of their relationship, she's only human. It's inevitable that sometimes they may struggle, because they do experience things differently. Sometimes Root might ask for more than Shaw is willing to give, but that can be a learning experience for her, after which she might step back and remind herself that what Shaw _does_ give her means so much coming from her. And they can both keep on learning and growing together and figuring out what they want together.
> 
> That's my two cents about their relationship for tonight, anyway.
> 
> Title comes from "The Lost Souls" by AFI. Because I physically cannot stop naming my fics after AFI lyrics and writing ocean metaphors. Seriously, though, [listen to it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGdxbefBXzQ). Apply it to all of your ships.


End file.
